Wings
by Lancel
Summary: Still reeling from the losses during the Vajra conflict, Frontier gets desperate for new pilots to fill out its Spacy again, leading Cathy to make the controversial decision to assign a VF-25F Messiah to one eager young space cadet: Sheryl Nome.
1. Sheryl

** Macross Quarter _Hangar Deck_**

_** Landing Bay, New Frontier**_

_** 0857, 03 May 2060**_

The flight deck was already calm from the morning patrol launches by the time Sheryl Nome stood upon the deck. She was not exactly a stranger to the deck crew, but she was hardly a stranger anywhere she went. The faces she recognized regarded her with a respectful nod if their eyes met, a gesture Sheryl returned. The ones she did not recognize were younger and less inclined to glancing as they were to outright staring. She wondered how many of them were fans or simply thought she was a pretty sight.

A crash and a shout drew her attention to one area of the deck. "Be careful!" a gruff voice yelled, "We just finished building that plane! I don't want to have to explain to the deck chief why an unflown bird already has a ding in it!"

At the source of the commotion amidst the busy ground crew and a mess of tools and workbenches was the sleek, streamlined profile of a VF-25F Messiah in fighter mode, pure white with sky blue stripes and black accents. The painted metal shined under the fluorescent deck lights, gleaming along its long nose and swept back wings. The numbering on the tail said in bold letters **SMS-029**. Sheryl slowly walked toward it, coming to a stop a scant few meters from the starboard intake. She resisted the temptation to take the last few steps and reach out and touch it. She was no pilot. She didn't feel comfortable touching someone else's plane, same as she wouldn't feel comfortable touching someone else's car without their knowing, but she could not help but admire it, if only from a distance, nor could she help the instant attraction she felt toward it.

It was a strange feeling for the singer. She remembered a time when Valkyries were just Valkyries to her and nothing too special, merely what pilots flew into battle. She couldn't place a time when her attitude toward them changed, it was so gradual, and perhaps she just had so happen in the last year that she hadn't noticed until her life had calmed down.

Her career as a singer kept drawing her away from her studies as a pilot at Mihoshi Academy. It assumed her choice of curriculum was an eccentric dabble of hers or something to do with a beautiful young man named Alto. She had even posed for a wide assortment of publicity stunts for it, and maybe in the beginning that was all it was, a publicity stunt, but here she was, a year later, still in the pilot program and now finding herself longing more and more for a Valkyrie to call her own.

A low whistle suddenly emitted from behind her. Sheryl winced, _Not again..._

Sheryl put on a frown as she slowly turned to face down another would-be suitor. It was a young man, of _course_, with unkempt black hair and dressed in overalls smeared with engine grease and black soot. In his hand was an oversized wrench covered in oil and a rag he was using to clean with as he spoke. For a moment she thought he was a new grease monkey, but the pilot wings on his chest spoke otherwise. She noted his rank was equal to her own, Warrant Officer. No wonder he felt so emboldened. She put her hands on her hips as he spoke to her, "Hey, beautiful, you look lost. Maybe I can help you find what you're _really_ looking for." His jockish grin and general lack of tonal subtlety left it pretty clear what he was _hoping _she was looking for. She turned her nose up at the thought.

"Sorry, but I'm not into animals," she retaliated. Not her best.

"Hey, I can be anything you want me to be, my darling miss- err.." His gaze fell to her name emblazoned on the left breast of her fatigues, **S. NOME**, and with that glance his pompous ego deflated as he finished his sentence in disbelief, "... Nome?"

Her hard frown broke up to a look of momentary puzzlement as confusion set in on him. He looked back up to her face in disbelief, then to the name tag again, then back and forth. It wasn't uncommon for her to be recognized, but it was rare for that recognition to cause the attitude to drop. It usually just made it worse.

Sheryl's gaze was then distracted by a figure walking around a tool bin from behind him. She recognized the face as Catherine Glass, one of the _Quarter_'s bridge officers, and she looked none too pleased. In an instant she gave a shout loud enough to give the dumbfounded young man a start. "WARRANT OFFICER DYSON!"

The young man whipped around with a hasty salute. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Are you harassing your fellow soldier?" Cathy asked with an unfriendly tone.

"No, ma'am! I was just introducing myself, ma'am."

Her next words were entirely flat, "I can see you're doing a fine job. Have you even bothered telling her your name yet?"

He spun around to face Sheryl again as he wiped his right hand off with the rag and offered it to her, his smile as friendly as he could manage without seeming too much like a pervert. "Warrant Officer Victor G. Dyson, ma'am." 

Sheryl eyed his hand for a moment, then looked back up to him with her brightest fairy smile, the one reserved for complete mischief. She took his hand. He was gentle. Sheryl was not. Her grip gave his face a twitch of surprise. "Warrant Officer _Sheryl Nome_. Pleased to meet you, Dyson." She left particular emphasis on her full name. He seemed to know it, and he seemed to be sweating slightly more for it.

"Likewise," he said quietly, taking his losses with a respectful nod.

"I think you have work to see to, Dyson," Cathy hinted, "Dismissed."

He turned back to Cathy with a click of his heels and a salute, "Ma'am." And with that he quickly made himself scarce.

Cathy stepped in his place with a sigh. Sheryl saluted her superior. "At ease, Nome." Sheryl dropped her hand and assumed the standard at ease pose. Sheryl noticed Cathy had dropped some of her own formality, she even smiled a little. "So, were you eying that brand new VF-25?" Cathy gave an indicating nod to the fighter Sheryl had just been looking over.

"I suppose I was," Sheryl said coyly, looking over it again with a lingering gaze.

Cathy turned toward it and gave it a thorough optical inspection. Sheryl followed suit. "Well, it looks like they put it together properly. F variant. Undoubtedly it will serve its pilot well. Do you still dream about one day flying one of these?"

Sheryl smiled a little, "Yeah."

Cathy chuckled, "You're a mystery to me, Sheryl. Joining the Pilot program like you did during the Vajra Conflict was just a publicity stunt, you said so yourself. That ended nine months ago, and yet here you are, still trying to earn your wings. You, the songstress of the galaxy, the Galactic Fairy, who only came to Frontier for your own concert tour."

"That was a long time ago," Sheryl said, "A lot of things have happened since then." She ran a hand through her hair out of habit. It brushed against her earring.

Cathy glanced at her for a moment, smiling again, "You know when we first met I thought Galactic Bitch was a more appropriate monicker for you." Sheryl turned at her suddenly with shock and hurt in her eyes. Cathy held up a hand defensively and quickly added, "Not that I think so now! I just mean to say you've changed a lot in my eyes since then, and maybe you've changed a little in your own, too." Cathy glanced again at the plane, specifically the worker in front of the canopy as he began peeling away painting tape. Cathy continued on, "You are a strong-willed woman with the right heart to go with it. Maybe you didn't sign up with flying Valkyries one day for real in mind, but you stuck with it because you want to help and protect people, and that's a better reason than most sign up for. You do that uniform proud, Sheryl. That's why the day is coming sooner than you think..." Cathy made another glance back to the plane as the technician pulled the ladder from the nose. She gave a nod toward it for Sheryl, but her own eyes watched the fairy's with a knowing smile.

Sheryl's confused gaze turned toward the fighter again, and in an instant her eyes widened and mouth gasped loudly. Her hands clasped over her mouth in sheer reflex as she again read the single line of loving script written under the seam of the canopy.

_ **Warr. Off. Sheryl Nome**_

She looked back to Cathy in disbelief and seeking some sort of confirmation. The woman was facing her now with a wide smile, her right hand thrust forward while the left held up an open jewelry case. Inside was a set of polished brass wings. "Congratulations, Pilot."

Sheryl's eyes were fixed upon the wings for a long moment before she finally regained some composure, yet still she dripped with spunk at the news. "Thank you, Commander Glass!" Sheryl said quickly as she reminded herself of proper etiquette and shook Cathy's hand.

"May I?" Catherine gestured to Sheryl's collar. Sheryl nodded with a small coo of approval, and she stood tall as Cathy pinned the wings to her chest. "And there you are. So, want to go for a test flight?"

Sheryl's devilish grin was all the affirmation needed.


	2. SMS 029

_** 0926**_

Flaps, rudders, instruments, Sheryl Nome raced through the preflight checks from the front seat of a VF-25F Messiah. _Her_ VF-25F Messiah, as she constantly reminded herself with pride. The smile hadn't left her lips for a moment during all the time she spent getting into her flight suit and climbing into the cockpit. Catherine Glass was seated behind her, rattling off an obligatory sortie briefing. She was always one for being by the book, but she knew how to have fun sometimes. Most of her words were forgotten by Sheryl as soon as they were said, disregarded as inconsequential as she savored the feel of the EX-Gear's untouched flight stick and throttle, the shine of the Multifunction Display and holographic Heads-Up Display, and even that new plane smell. It was like she had just been given the keys to a brand new sports car at sixteen, and she had actually been given the keys to a brand new sports car at sixteen.

One thing from Cathy did catch her ear though, "We'll be going by the callsign Virgin-One for this flight." 

Sheryl paused and looked back at Cathy with a suggestive arch of her golden brow.

Cathy shrugged and rolled her eyes, "It's a tradition for new planes. Ignore it."

Sheryl shrugged in return and turned back to the front, watching as the automated checks upon the multifunction display were completed to satisfaction and were replaced with "STARTUP" in large, friendly letters. A pleasant shiver tickled her spine at the sound of the engine coming to life, the unmistakable rising hum of reaction turbines spinning up. The thrill was much like the first time she piloted a variable fighter, just without the nervous shaking, or the major battle being waged around her, a fleeting memory chased away by the coming one. This would be a day she would cherish.

The thrum of the engines became a constant hum, and the word upon the display was replaced with "READY" with a pleasant chime.

"Everything looks good, Commander," she called back to Cathy.

"Take us out then, pilot." 

Sheryl grinned and thumbed on the communications, "Virgin-One to CIC, requesting permission to taxi."

A holographic window materialized on the cockpit glass to one side, the face of one of the young bridge girls, Lam Hoa, appearing with a smile. "CIC to Virgin-One, taxi is a go."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," Sheryl chirped. She checked around her for the ground prep crew and got the thumbs up. She took a deep breath to savor the moment, then slid the throttle forward gently. The engine revved and the plane inched forward with subtle acceleration.

It was a short trip to the catapult lift. The internalized maintenance deck was a necessity for space travel. The lift acted as something of an airlock, and was further designed to limit the amount of exposure the plane was given before launch in the event of a scramble. The catapult rail was divided into two sections, one on the lift, the rest of the track on the launch deck. Each piece would lock in to make one continuous whole for a quick launch. Cathy told her about how pilots used to have to inch off the lift and thread the needle using holographic guides to dock the front gear into the catapult. Unfortunately it proved such a pain in the ass that most pilots ignored it and instead elected to punch the throttle hard on launch, especially during all the Code Victor scrambles. This was a recent upgrade. Cathy certainly had plenty of time to explain it all, especially noting the improvements to the holographic guides, but in all the excitement Sheryl missed those very guides twice. '_Improved holographic guides' my ass, _Sheryl complained to herself. Still, she couldn't help but appreciate Cathy's attempts at calming her down, even if it was with boring trivia.

At length her fighter was finally mounted and lifted to the launch deck. The bright, late morning sun streamed into the cockpit from the skies of Frontier. Holograms outside her fighter illuminated the runway, placing lines at evenly spaced intervals of only a few meters each. A large screen ran through a final series of launch checks on the catapult. Sheryl felt butterflies in her stomach as she stared out down the length of the runway, hands squeezing around the stick and throttle.

"Virgin One to CIC, requesting permission to launch," Sheryl said.

Cathy went on while they waited, "Now I know Saotome flew you out in his Messiah a couple of times, but take it as slow as you need. The VF-25 is a lot different from the trainer VF-171s you're used to."

The comms then chirped again with Lam, "Board is clear, launch permission granted. Have fun, Virgin-One."

Sheryl nodded, "Thank you, ma'am." The floating lights changed to red in sequence, three lights to signal the launch. The first changed. Sheryl grinned as her fingers flexed over the controls. The second changed. Sheryl's breath held in anticipation. And finally with the third, the board went green, the catapult firing as Sheryl simultaneously threw the throttle forward. Multiple Gs of acceleration threw Sheryl back in her seat as the VF-25 was hurled down the launch deck and off the _Macross Quarter_ in a matter of seconds. Sheryl gasped as her fighter rocketed up into the endless sky, the clouds that at once had seemed so high already almost right alongside now. The _Macross Quarter _shrank rapidly behind them.

"Okay! Okay! Ease off the throttle now, Sheryl! Eeeease!" Cathy plead behind her. The bridge officer wasn't used to this kind of acceleration, even from the _Quarter_. Sheryl pulled the throttle back and felt herself lurch forward as acceleration suddenly dropped to nil. "Euugh, I said eeease," Cathy whined.

Sheryl, meanwhile, was cooing while she looked out the canopy, "It's so beautiful out here." The sky seemed to stretch on forever in the purest baby blue, laced with tall, dramatic clouds of fluffy white. Beneath the horizon lay the sparkling ocean, deep, ominous, but just as blue.

"Yeah, it is. I just hope we can keep it this way. You know they've been talking about cutting corners with environmental protection laws to get the colony going faster because of all the damage we took during the war."

"It's so different being able to fly up here. From the ground it's just a pretty background, but up here it's... really something. The wind, the clouds, the sky..." Sheryl smiled distantly as she took in the beauty. "Still, this is a new plane, right?" 

"Yeah, this is her first flight."

"Who said it was a 'she'?" Sheryl smirked.

"Huh? What do you mean? It's a trad-eeyah!" Cathy gave a small scream as Sheryl threw the throttle forward again in the middle of her sentence. The engines roared again and threw them both back in their seats. Sheryl pulled back hard on the stick and giggled as her new fighter shot up into the clouds, breaking the sound barrier in the process. She glanced back to watch the wings fold back fluidly for super sonic flight. She cast the stick left, and the plane rolled about its center axis effortlessly. She manipulated the pedals, and the rudders and vectored thrust nozzles adjusted their orientation in instant response. It didn't take her long to get used to it and once she had, she began to push it harder and harder, and the VF-25 answered casually to her whims and danced across the sky with her in a supersonic tango.


	3. Ozma

__**Macross Quarter****_ Bridge_**

_** 0947**_

"_Weeeee!_" was the first sound Flight Captain Ozma Lee heard when he stepped onto the bridge of the _Macross Quarter _with his second morning cup of coffee. He was not amused.

"What the hell is going on up here?" Ozma demanded sternly of the three young women huddled around the big screen monitor at the back wall.

"Oh, Ozma!" Monica said as the three stood sharply and saluted him. "Sheryl got her Pilot Wings today! She's taking her first flight!"

"Hmph." The three took back their seats, but the lighthearted situation did nothing to diminish Ozma's stern aura as he turned his gaze to the monitor as if he already knew what he expected to see. Sure enough he saw it, a shiny white VF-25 flitting about like a stimmed up kid in a balloon park. If he caught the tail identification right, it was unit SMS-029. "That idiot. That plane is brand new, it hasn't even been broken in yet."

The fairy's relentless giggles suddenly had another voice cut in, one he recognized intimately. "Take it easy, Sheryl! You're making me sick!"

"Where is Cathy?" he asked flatly as he took a sip from his coffee.

Lam spoke up this time, "She's with Sheryl in the back seat." 

Ozma's sip sputtered out in a cloud of vapor and droplets. "What? Damn it, I told her to skip that with her! I barely trust that tramp with a _plane_, let alone _my woman's life._"

"Oh come on, she's not that bad," Lam said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll believe that when she gets more than twenty-nine seconds of combat flight time." His frown only deepened as he watched the Valkyrie perform a particularly high-G maneuver involving a Fighter-to-GERWALK transformation. "She's completely out of control."

At that moment, Monica gasped sharply and shot up from her seat to point at the big screen, "Bring up chase camera three!"

Lam did so diligently, and the entire bridge crew watched the main screen expectantly. The close-up view was replaced with a wide-angle shot of the area, showing the entirety of the lingering exhaust trail of Sheryl's VF-25 scrawled across the bright sky. It looked like a two-year old had been given crayons and left to scribble across a mahogany floor. Ozma's frown persisted. Silence lingered on the bridge, and for a long moment no one stirred. Finally, Monica relented, "Never mind."


	4. Alto

_** Delta Patrol, 40,000 feet**_

_** Sky Ocean, New Frontier**_

_** 0955**_

"Do you _have _to play that harmonica _all _the time?" First Lieutenant Alto Saotome asked a question with barely contained hostility aimed at one of his wingmen.

"Does it bother you?" Brera Sterne answered on the screen coldly as he lowered the harmonica from his lips.

"Not as much as your fighter riding my ass the whole damn patrol!" Alto growled as he looked over his shoulder past the body of his own VF-25F Messiah at the damnable visage of Brera's blood red VF-27 Lucifer. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were keeping a shot lined up on me just _waiting _for an excuse."

"Are you certain you know better?" Alto didn't need to see the comms window to see Brera's deadly serious poker face. It did not dissuade Alto's angry growl.

Luca's considerably lighter voice chimed in before Alto could respond with words. His green VF-25R hung a much more reasonable distance away off Alto's left wing. "Ahh, come on you two. We've flown dozens of patrols together and all the two of you do is bicker. They'd be a lot more pleasant if you both got along."

Alto replied, "They'd be a lot more pleasant if Brera would stop dogging my heels like a lovesick pu-!" The crack of a sonic boom cut off Alto's sentence. Alto did not see what it was, but he felt the shock wave knock his Valkyrie around. "What the f- Who the hell was that?" Alto shouted in irritation as he straightened and leveled his flight.

The cyborg answered promptly, "Someone flying under the Virgin-One callsign."

Alto sighed and thumbed open the general communications channel. "Skull-Four to _Macross Quarter. _Some jackass flying under Virgin-One just buzzed my flight."

Lam's voice answered, "Sorry about that, Skull-Four, we'll let her know to stop doing that."

"Just give me a name, I'll chew the newbie out later."

"Are you sure you want to do that, Skull-Four?" Lam's voice suddenly gained a mild tone of mischief.

"Should I not be?" Alto asked.

"Aside from the fact that you are never sure of anything..."

"Shut up, Brera!"

Lam gave a small giggle, "Let's just say that you're... _intimately _familiar with the pilot."

This time it was Luca's turn to giggle. Alto just glanced at all his comms windows in turn with momentary confusion, "Huh? What do you-" Realization hit Alto like a stone, "Oh no..."

"Mmhm!" Lam squeeked, "It's your eeeex!"

"Alto!" Sheryl's voice suddenly cut into the audio, followed swiftly by the woman herself in her own holographic window, all decked out in a pilot suit and helmet sitting in an EX-Gear in the unmistakable cockpit of a VF-25. He hated to admit it, but she cut a sexy figure even in a flight suit. "There you are, I was trying to find your channel."

"_Hai_, well you found it. Already gotten lost in your own interface?" Alto answered aloofly, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the sky.

"I'm figuring it out!" Sheryl replied defensively. "It's different from those Nightmares we'd get at Mihoshi."

"So instead of giving you your own Nightmare they give you a Messiah. Great."

"Jealous, Alto?" Sheryl asked with that damnable smile of hers.

"Why would I be jealous? I'm flying the exact same plane as you are."

"Mine's newer!" Sheryl chirped with that equally damnable pride.

"And you're flying it like a maniac!" Alto said with a raising voice, taking his opening, "Just what the hell were you thinking, buzzing me like that?"

Sheryl rolled her eyes and frowned, "Just thought I'd say hello. You don't have to get so uptight about it, I thought you could handle it. You didn't stall out in my jet wash, did you?"

Alto's brow twitched. The woman never failed to push his buttons, and she knew _all_ of them, "Like _hell_ I stalled out!"

"Saotome! Nome! Get this conversation the hell off of general comms!" Ozma's voice barreled in.

"Oh, is this the general comms channel? I thought it was Alto's," Sheryl winced with a blush.

"_Now, _Nome!" Ozma shouted again.

"Eugh, do they have to stop arguing?" A different voice and Alto glanced back at Sheryl's video as a figure stirred behind her and peered over Sheryl's shoulder. It was Catherine Glass. "She finally started flying straight and level while they were at it. My stomach is almost back to where it should be..."

Ozma was quick to add, "Nome, fly Cathy back to the ship. Lieutenant Hoa will make sure you get immediate landing clearance."

Cathy smiled gently while Sheryl sighed, "Thanks, Ozma."

"Serves you right..." Alto said off-handedly to Sheryl. His only reply was a glare from her before the connection was cut. Then Luca's voice sighed heavily across the channel. "What?" Alto asked flatly of him.

"You always have to take things just that one step further, don't you, _senpai?_"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Luca frowned, "I'm just saying that it's no wonder the two of you broke up." And with that, Luca's own face disappeared from the screen. Alto sighed himself long and hard as he relaxed into the seat of his EX-Gear. When he looked up again he noticed Brera's comm channel had been left open, and the cyborg's cold eyes were watching him intently, his hands were steepled in silent, motionless contemplation as if the man seriously considered putting Alto out of his misery right then and there. Alto frowned back for a solid beat, then turned Brera's screen off himself.

He leaned back again with another sigh, and in the silence and privacy of his cockpit, he let himself smile a bit, "She got her wings..."


	5. Cathy

_** Flight Virgin-One, 29,000 feet**_

_** 1006**_

Catherine Glass sat back in her seat with a relaxed sigh. No more jerking, no more high-G maneuvers, no more squeels of joy or bickering, just a steady flight, a good view of the sky, and silence. _Silence..._ Cathy thought to herself. _Sheryl has been very quiet since she spoke to Alto._

She decided to try to break the ice, "So... How do you like the plane?"

"Huh?" Sheryl said, as if broken from deep thought, "Oh, she's a lovely girl. She has grace and quite a lot of love for flying." 

Cathy chuckled, "So you've decided it's a 'she', have you?"

"Hm," Sheryl shrugged, "I suppose she just seems like one. She has a figure like a princess." The next statement was dipped into a bit of venom, just a bit, "If she were a 'he', well, that would just be _embarrassing_." 

Cathy quirked her lip, thinking on if she should take the opening to talk about Alto. It was common knowledge that Alto used to play girls in Kabuki plays, and his long, blue hair didn't help matters. It took her only a moment to decide. "So, forgive me if this is personal, but... I'm guessing you and Alto didn't break up on the best of terms."

"It won't be a problem," Sheryl said matter-of-factly.

"That's not why I'm asking."

Sheryl looked over her shoulder briefly at Cathy. Cathy felt the fighter bank slightly as Sheryl twisted, but ignored it in favor of the conversation. Sheryl's voice was just a little weak, "It's not something I want to talk about right now."

For a moment, Cathy felt strongly compelled to continue the conversation anyway, to push a little more to find out what had happened. She knew what it was like to be frustrated by a man, to feel like there was never going to be a way to make it work even in the face of loving him so, and to instead try to deny it and say that it will go away in time, and that true love will come from elsewhere. She knew now that this wasn't really how love worked, and even today regretted not figuring that out sooner. If she had just stuck it out herself, learned to be a little less selfish and self-centered, then maybe she could have been celebrating her third wedding anniversary right now. Instead, she remembers sleeping in a cold, empty bed most of the last three years. Years she could have spent with Ozma. Deep down she wanted to tell these things to Sheryl because she saw a lot of herself and Ozma in her and Alto, but how could she know that was it? How could she even know that this was really love? These questions left her without an answer as to if she should tell Sheryl all this. What finally kept her silence was the thought that maybe she and Ozma had actually changed some in the time they spent apart, matured in some ways even though Ozma might never admit it himself. Maybe that was how they were making it work now. Maybe that's what it would take for Sheryl and Alto to find love, too, with whomever they choose.

It was some time after this thought process went through her head that Cathy spoke again, "So, how long are we out to _Macross Quarter?_"

Sheryl replied, "We should be there in five minutes, but I have just one... quick detour on the way." The curl of her tone betrayed the curl of her lips.

"Huh?"


	6. Ranka

_** Landing Hills**_

_** San Francisco, New Frontier**_

_** 1012**_

Ranka Lee skipped across the grassy knoll across the harbor from where _Macross Quarter _stood, the very one where she and Sheryl had stood after the final battle for New Frontier less than a year ago. It felt like it had been almost half a lifetime ago for Ranka. Today she wore a white dress, plain, strapless. The grass was tall and gently waved in the wind. Amidst that windy, grassy knoll was a single splotch of green that did not wave, and this spot simply made Ranka shake her head.

"Ai_-kun_, you're not hiding very well!" she called out to her Vajra friend. Ai-kun had thankfully not grown much since that fateful battle. She saw his little antennas droop sadly. "Aww, it's okay, Ai_-kun_!" Suddenly, Ranka's phone chirped on vibrate. She reached for the squishy slug-like thing as she finished, "We'll work on it!"

Upon the stomach of the plushy phone was a chibified face of white skin, bright pink and gold hair, and big, deep blue eyes that winked at her. Under the face was simply written 'Sheryl'. Ranka answered it excitedly. She hadn't heard from her for a few days. "Sheryl-_san_!" Ranka called into the slug.

"Ranka-_chan_!_" _the familiar voice of Sheryl Nome said back, "What are you doing right now?"

"Oh, just playing with Ai_-kun_ on the hill. You know the one, right across the bay."

"Yes, I remember it. That's where I thought you'd be. Ai_-kun_ isn't flying is he?"

"No, he's on the ground, why do you ask?"

Sheryl giggled mischievously, "You'll see! In about... three... two... one..." A deafening sonic boom slammed Ranka's eardrums along with a mighty gust of wind that cast her off her feet with considerable force. Ranka barely had enough time to be shocked when, while in midair and for just an instant, she saw above her a plane flying upside down scarcely a dozen meters above her head that looked very much like Alto's, but painted differently. She thought she could see the pilot, someone familiar, waving at her.

Ranka gasped sharply as recognition dawned on her. "Sheryl_-san_!" The next instant Ranka's skirt slapped her in the face, caught by the wind like an umbrella and turned inside-out, then she hit the ground with a thud.

Her ears rang, her mouth was full of grass, and she was fairly certainly her butt had been bruised, but Ranka stood and spat the grass out of her mouth as quick as she could despite it all just to shout out her sheer joy for her friend. "YOU GOT YOUR WINGS!"

The smile was as evident in Sheryl's voice as it was on her face as her VF-25 flew toward the _Macross Quarter _and disappeared in a twinkle on the horizon. "I got my wings."

**_~END_**

* * *

_Author's Notes: I wrote this as something of an experiment, trying out concepts and seeing how they worked and seeing if I can accurately depict each character's personality and their interactions. I'm not sure if I succeeded. This is written as kind of something in the middle of what's been going on, and most of what's been going on (in my head) only gets mentioned. Notable occurrences being why Sheryl was given a plane (though that was noted in the summary), the rocky condition of Sheryl and Alto's relationship, what Sheryl is even doing in the military, and what Frontier has even been up to. These things have reasons which I didn't get the chance to go into, but I'll leave that to speculation for now. It's possible I might take these ideas and make something proper out of it, but I thought I would send this out as sort of a test pilot so to speak to see reactions/interest and if people tell me "You're doing it wrong". I'm also curious if the descriptions and narrative is actually good/interesting or if I'm being unnecessarily long-winded at times. I confess though my largest concern is if the various characters are accurately depicted, as I touched on quite a few.  
_


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